


The one where Sansa isn't sick!

by Queenofthebees



Series: My best friend and my sister [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Friends Inspired, Lotions, Sexual Content, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: “I think I’m sick.”He smiled despite the sad acceptance in her voice and cleared his throat to sound more subdued as he closed the book and looked up at her hovering in the living room doorway. “Do you need anything sweetheart?”She nodded, extending the little tub she held towards him. "Can you rub this on me?""Sure," he said, placing the book down. Only when he unscrewed the lid and Sansa shrugged off her dressing gown, revealing her bare breasts to his gaze, did he think to second guess himself. "Oh no you don't!"He shoved the tub back towards her and picked up his book with a scowl."What?" Sansa said, her arms outstretched in indignation. "Jon, I'm sick. Help me!""I know what you're doing," he muttered, every ounce of self control preventing him from peaking up at her naked chest. He couldn't even see the words in front of him, he was just determined to get the point across that he could, and would, resist her.





	The one where Sansa isn't sick!

**Author's Note:**

> prompt 15 - one of them is sick

“I’m not sick!”

Sansa’s harsh statement was undermined with a rumbling cough that made her practically hunch over towards the coffee table, her hands curling around the edge for purchase.

“Of course you’re not,” Jon responded dryly, nudging the door closed with his foot.

“I’m not!” Sansa insisted, glaring over the top of the sofa at him.

Jon quirked a brow but decided getting into an argument with his girlfriend about whether she was sick or not (she was!), was not how he wanted to proceed. Instead, he placed the little white bag of medicine on the table.

“Well, if you decide you need them after all, they’re on the table,” he commented. “Would you like some water?”

“Please,” she sighed, lying back against the cushions. “But I’m not sick!”

“It is okay to be sick you know,” he commented, coming to the sofa and kissing her head. She scowled, batting him away.

"I'm not sick!"

"Okay sweetheart," he chuckled, raising his hands as he backed away in surrender.

***

“Jon.”

“Hmm?”

He rolled over, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he felt her snuggling into his side. Instantly, his arms wrapped around her and he moved onto his back to make them more comfortable. His breath hitched as her fingers circled his nipple, her grin hot against his neck as it puckered beneath her touch. 

"Sansa," he groaned, struggling to find the resolve to push her away. "Baby, you need to rest!"

She pulled back, her body hovering over his and even in the dark he can see her death glare. "I'm not sick!"

He sighed. "Alright."

"I'm not!" she insisted, even though her voice was choked and she was sniffing every three seconds. Still, Jon knew how stubborn she could be, so he wasn't surprised at her insistence.

"I'm tired sweetheart," he lied. His cock protested fiercely but he knew it was for the best. He was a complete sucker for being sick, a classic man flu victim. But more importantly, he didn't want Sansa to get worse. 

"Okay," Sansa replied, rolling off of him where she descended into another coughing fit. Admittedly, he was surprised she didn't repeat her insistence but perhaps she was finally starting to get the message.

*** 

“I think I’m sick.”

He smiled despite the sad acceptance in her voice and cleared his throat to sound more subdued as he closed the book and looked up at her hovering in the living room doorway. “Do you need anything sweetheart?”

She nodded, extending the little tub she held towards him. "Can you rub this on me?"

"Sure," he said, placing the book down. Only when he unscrewed the lid and Sansa shrugged off her dressing gown, revealing her bare breasts to his gaze, did he think to second guess himself. "Oh no you don't!"

He shoved the tub back towards her and picked up his book with a scowl.

"What?" Sansa said, her arms outstretched in indignation. "Jon, I'm sick. Help me!"

"I know what you're doing," he muttered, every ounce of self control preventing him from peaking up at her naked chest. He couldn't even see the words in front of him, he was just determined to get the point across that he could, and would, resist her.

"Fine," Sansa huffed, sitting down in the chair opposite him. "I'll do it myself!"

Jon hummed an agreement, frowning down at his book with forced concentration. But the slick sounds of the lotion against her skin was so tempting, his cock hardening as his traitorous brain imagined her skin glistening with it. 

He cleared his throat again, the book shaking in his grasp. Crossing one leg over the other to try and hide his erection, he tried once more to concentrate on the words before him. He was not weak, he would not give in!

"Oh," Sansa moaned.

Helplessly, Jon glanced up, his throat bobbing instantly as Sansa's hand curved around her breast, the lotion glistening in the dim light from the lamp. For a few seconds, he was mesmorised by the sight of her squeezing and rubbing her breasts, until he felt his tongue dart out and the movement broke his trance. He cleared his throat again, shaking his head roughly.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice far too innocent for what she was doing.

"Nothing," Jon responded quickly, wincing at how husky his voice sounded.

"Is...is this turning you on?" she asked, the innocent tone still there, much to his annoyance.

"Yes," he groaned, giving up on the book and letting his head fall back against the back of the sofa in defeat for a few seconds of silence. "Fuck it, lets do it!"

"What?" Sansa scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'm sick Jon. We can't have sex."

"Pfft!" He waved a hand around the room. "You're not sick. You just wanted sympathy."

She raised an eyebrow, studying him for a moment before she shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose I'm not feeling too bad."

Jon barely let her finish the sentence before he was tossing his shirt over his head as he raced towards the bedroom. Even when Sansa had that victorious smirk on her face and he knew he had fallen for her trick he couldn't really be annoyed when she dropped to her knees, her chest still slick with lotion and sucked him off with filthy enthusiasm. He had insisted on rubbing more lotion into her chest, just to be sure it soothed her of course. And if his thumbs lingered on her nipples, that had been purely accidental. Although, when it made her arch up and rub against him, moaning eagerly, he knew he couldn't play the game much longer.

It had barely taken him anytime to move to be inside of her, their bodies moving rough and quick with desperation that had been building for days of not touching one another. He was so overcome with lust that he initiated another quick fumble as soon as he had recovered from the first time. 

And, when he succumbed to the bug two days later, he couldn't really bring himself to care.


End file.
